“Oh, I think I do,” she said, grabbing for his hair as he lowered his head and took her nipple fully in the hot cavern of his mouth, sucking hard. “I really, really do.”
He pulled off with a soft popping sound and sent her a smile dripping with sin. “Let’s see about that.” He tilted his head, looking back over his shoulder. “Johan.”
“Yes, sir.” Johan swiveled in an instant, his pale green eyes going wide as he took in the spectacle. His tongue swept over his bottom lip, nervous . . . interested.
“You think we can stop and drop anchor here for a few minutes?” Wyatt asked, turning back to Kelsey, wicked smirk still in place. “I don’t want you crashing into the rocks, trying to see behind you.”
Johan’s gaze darted to Kelsey’s, then downward, his tawny cheeks darkening as he took in her near nudity. “I, uh, yes, sir. Whatever you need.”
Kelsey smiled, Johan’s bashful reaction reminding her of Hawk’s first time in her dungeon. He’d been so halting, respectful in the way only Southern men could be, but there had also been a keen desire underlying that layer of shyness. A hungry space to be filled.
“You don’t have to watch anything if it makes you uncomfortable, Johan,” she said gently, drawing her hair forward to cover her breasts. “We don’t mind you looking, but it’s your decision.”
If Wyatt thought she was overstepping her bounds by taking control of the situation with Johan, he didn’t say anything. His hands just stroked the small of her back, his cock growing hard against her spread legs.
Johan turned fully around, his board shorts looking a little tighter in the front and his fingers fiddling with the braided leather bracelet on his wrist. “I think I’d do just about anything to watch. As long as it’s okay with you.”
Wyatt lifted an eyebrow at Kelsey, a question mark. “Your call, love. I won’t command you on this one.”
“Drop anchor, Johan,” she said without tearing her gaze away from Wyatt.
Wyatt’s full lips curved. “Get on your knees, love, and face the side railing. Time for me to fuck you.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, feeling that rush that came when he used that tone.
She climbed off Wyatt and crawled on her hands and knees to the side railing, the Caribbean stretching out in front of her, an endless blue horizon. Johan scrambled around, hitting buttons and causing a loud grinding beneath them as the anchor dropped. But Kelsey was no longer paying attention to him. Not when Wyatt sidled up behind her and stroked her waist.
“Put your hands on the bottom rail,” he breathed against her ear.
She did so without hesitation, her blood quickening in her veins. He pulled cuffs from the duffel bag he’d brought with him, ones with soft, supple leather and a little chain between them. With deft movements that belied his I-haven’t-done-this-in-a-while experience, he locked her to the railing, leaving her chained and resting on her forearms, her nipples brushing the canvas of the cushion she was perched on and her ass in the air. The wanton position probably should’ve made her self-conscious, but instead a surprising stillness bloomed inside her, intense calm.r: Roni Loren
“Mmm,” he said, sliding his fingers around her ankle and gripping, enjoying the little catch of her breath it caused. “Too much for him, huh?”
She leaned back on her elbows, her gaze leaving heat trails over his skin in its wake. “Yes, sir.”
The simple reply pushed that button inside of him, had everything he’d kept banked all morning leaking through. “Tell me, Kelsey. Is he the type of guy you’d pick to be under your boot heel at The Ranch? Grant told me you prefer the more innocent ones.”
Her focus slid away from his face and to the horizon, a curtain falling. “Do you really want to know about that part of me, Wyatt?”
His hand slid up her calf, but he continued to watch her. The thought of her having to dominate someone for cash pissed him off. But the idea that she had that side to her was more than a little intriguing. Submitting held no appeal for him personally, but he couldn’t pretend that the image of her making other men grovel at her feet didn’t turn him on just a little—as long as those men never touched her. In those fantasies he’d weaved since finding out about her dominance, she was his. Her submissives could be lashed by her, made to beg, touch themselves, but only he had the privilege of bringing her pleasure. Maybe right in front of those very men, showing them what they could never give her.
Yes, he knew it was a caveman urge, but fuck it. His fantasies. His rules.
“I want to know about all sides of you, love,” he said evenly as the ship’s engine rumbled to life beneath them.
She continued to stare toward the open sea but relented. “I do like the gentler souls, the ones who come to me because they crave the experience and are appreciative of it. Those who aren’t just saying the right things and playing some game because they want to see a chick in thigh-high boots and a corset. Or worse, the ones who think I’m going to break my rules and let them fuck me.”
“You’ve never slept with any of your subs?” he asked, honestly curious.
She shook her head. “There are some I’m fond of and care about. And there are times I get turned on in a session. But the pleasure for me is in the power exchange and seeing how my sub responds to it. Knowing I can provide them with something they so desperately ache for makes me feel . . . valued. But there’s not this burning desire to sleep with my submissives.”
He cupped the backside of her knee, bending it and tugging her closer to him. “I can’t say I feel the same way about my submissive.”
Her lips curved as the boat pulled out of the harbor. “Or I about my dominant.”
“Hmm, good to know.” He dragged her onto his lap, loving how she offered absolutely no resistance, and then tucked her between his knees, letting her lean back onto his chest. He brushed his fingers along her bare arms. “I told Johan to take the slow route, so the trip will be about an hour.”
“The slow route?” she asked, her voice going soft and pliant, like she was already sinking under his command. His blood heated at the thought.